


all my soul within me burning

by reynabeth, ShutUpPercy



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 04:59:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9368966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reynabeth/pseuds/reynabeth, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShutUpPercy/pseuds/ShutUpPercy
Summary: Annabeth Chase is a Fox, through and through.  The feel of an Exy racquet in her hand is more familiar to her than anything else, and her teammates are more like family.Reyna Ramírez-Arellano has found a strange sort of home in the Ravens; one where the other players aren't anything more to her than people filling space.  She belongs on the court - it's the one place where the ghosts can't reach her.The politics of Exy can be as unpredictable as the game itself, and when an unexpected transfer leaves the world shaken, the teams must find their footing once more.





	1. Annabeth

**Author's Note:**

> finally, the exy au we all deserve.
> 
> this will be co-written by anna (reynabeth) and i (katy; shutuppercy)! we plan on alternating chapters. i will be writing odd-numbered chapters from annabeth's pov, and anna will be writing even-numbered chapters from reyna's.
> 
> what are posting schedules anyway? we'll work something out, but we hope you enjoy!

Annabeth Chase had grown up living and breathing Exy.  The calluses on her hands and the bruises on her shins were as much a part of her as her stormy eyes and blonde curls.

 

It was her passion, she was told.  She had been playing as long as she could remember - she would do anything to get a racquet in her hand.  Even with no recollection of this, she had learned to nod and smile and keep her clenched fists away from the camera.  It wasn’t that Annabeth didn’t enjoy Exy; she really did.  It was just that the boarding schools specialising in the sport and the summer camps that served the purpose of furthering her training stuck in her memory harder than the raw passion she’d never had.  Anyone could do anything if they were trained for it from the age of seven, even if that training was just an unsuspicious solution to the presence of a daughter her father had never wanted.

 

But she found a home in Exy; one which she suspected she would never find in her actual family, where her own bed felt foreign.  She found a home and a routine in the scheduled practises and the shared dorms and the cute girl that sometimes played against them and the almost living buzz of the game itself.  Perhaps it was because Annabeth had never been given a chance to find her own future, but she couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

 

Still, the game had its ups and downs.  Annabeth was book-oriented more than anything else, and having to sacrifice some of her education because of the assumption that she’d have a career in Exy hurt a little.  So did the fact that she had never seemed to be able to keep friends; the majority of the kids from her first boarding school hadn’t made it to any sort of professional level, and she had only really made one real friend at her second one.  College had changed a lot of things.

 

Left to her own devices, Annabeth reckoned she could have gotten into a pretty good college.  Her father, however, stringently prioritised Exy, and Annabeth was relatively lucky to be in her second year at Palmetto State University in South Carolina.  Its campus and facilities weren’t the worst, but it was best known - and arguably infamous - for its Exy team, the Palmetto State Foxes.

 

Annabeth still had no idea why she had been asked to try out for the team.  Not only were they easily the worst Class I team in the country, but the Foxes prided themselves on being a halfway house for kids from broken homes.  They were a second chance.  Annabeth, with her rich family and expensive education and lack of a criminal record, should never have qualified.

 

It turned out that one of her favourite Exy coaches in high school, Chiron, had watched her family’s tension and decided Annabeth fit the team.  He’d shown her file to the Foxes, and they had agreed; if only because she was one of the best players of her age.  Still, her main alternative was to play for the Edgar Allan Ravens, so she wasn’t complaining.  At least she got to spend her college years with Percy.

 

Her first year at Palmetto State had been a whirlwind of games and practices.  College had presented Annabeth with more freedoms and more responsibilities than she had anticipated, and settling in had been more of a challenge than she liked to admit.  Still, the Foxes had pulled together enough to avoid being knocked out until the semi-finals.  Annabeth had been presented with the title of captain this time around, and she intended to bring them further.

 

The summer break passed in a haze of heat and rest and awkward conversations, and Annabeth found herself looking forward to going back to college.  Before the summer, she had helped Chiron and the team’s manager pick a couple of new players to replace the ones who had graduated.  They certainly fit the Foxes’ reputation, but Annabeth was more interested in how they would get along with their new teammates.

 

She also hadn’t seen her best friend, Percy, since before the summer, though he only lived a couple of states away.  Her father had made several promises to drive her over or book a flight, and followed through with none of them.   Annabeth hadn’t expected much else.

 

The day before the semester started, he drove Annabeth to Palmetto State.  In an attempt to fill the awkward silence that blanketed the journey, Annabeth recounted the previous season’s games, and Frederick pretended to be interested.  They were both relieved when they finally arrived at the campus.

 

Percy was waiting at the entrance to Fox Tower, the athletes’ dormitory, as Annabeth and her father hauled her suitcases from the car.  He broke into an easy smile as he stepped forward to greet them.  “Hey, Annabeth,” he said.  Annabeth leaned in for a hug, breathing in the scents of sea salt and mint shower gel that were more homely than anything from the last two months had been.  “Hi, Mr. Chase.  Was the traffic okay?”

 

Frederick checked his watch and distractedly glanced around them.  “Ah - yes, the drive was fine.  It’s nice to see you again, Percy.”  Annabeth raised an eyebrow when he wasn’t looking, and Percy shot her a sympathetic grimace.  Obliviously, Frederick continued, “I need to be back for your brothers’ school show, tonight; we should get the rest of your things out of the car.”

 

He likely wouldn’t see Annabeth until the autumn break, and he was thinking about his sons’ school play.  Swallowing her bitterness, Annabeth nodded.

 

“I’ll take these upstairs, if you want,” Percy said, gesturing towards the suitcases.  “What’s your room number?”

 

“Uh, room 220,” Annabeth replied.  She held out her key.

 

Percy slipped it into his pocket and grabbed the suitcase handles.  “The Foxes are meeting in the stadium,” he said.  “I’ll drive us down when everything’s in your room.”

 

Two trips, five boxes, and a tearless goodbye later, Annabeth was sitting in the passenger seat of Percy’s blue Honda.   He turned the radio down as they crossed the campus.  “So, how do you feel about Piper and Leo?”

 

Annabeth considered for a moment.  The two new additions to their lineup had been plucked straight from high school, and, on the surface, met every stereotype the Foxes were associated with.  The Wilderness School was one step removed from a juvenile detention centre.  Piper McLean had been landed there for stealing a brand-new BMW from a dealership, and Leo Valdez had earned his place after running away from six consecutive foster homes.

 

However, those weren’t their full stories.  Piper wasn’t an unrepentant thief; she was the daughter of a world-famous actor and had spent her teenage years going further and further in an attempt to get attention from her father.  Aside from her fierce playing style and speed, Annabeth had sympathised with her enough to keep her file in the shortlists.  Leo Valdez… well, Annabeth had found him annoying in person, but he had a lot of raw talent and nervous energy as well as an uncanny talent for predicting others’ moves.  Although Chiron had kept Leo’s past quiet, Annabeth figured he needed a reason to stop running.

 

“They’re interesting,” Annabeth said eventually.  “Piper’s lovely.  Leo’s… Leo.  I want to know whether they’ll get along with the others.”

 

Percy grinned into his rear mirror.  “Piper’s great - I was texting her over the summer.  And I bet Leo will fit right in with the Stolls.”

 

“Agreed.”

 

The car pulled into the stadium’s parking lot, and Annabeth jumped out.  They raced each other to the doors, drew, and continued the competition all the way up to the Foxes’ lounge.  It was a recipe for broken ankles before the season had even started.  Miraculously, Annabeth stumbled into the lounge milliseconds ahead of Percy and injury-free.

 

God, she’d missed him.

 

The room was buzzing with conversation; aside from the new players, Annabeth and Percy were the last to arrive.  Grover jumped up at the sight of Percy, and they exchanged an elaborate handshake before they actually spoke.  Rachel hugged Annabeth tightly and started talking about an art project she had worked on during the summer.  Connor and Travis stayed seated, but grinned with just enough mischief that Annabeth stuck her hands defensively in her pockets.  Surprisingly, Clarisse waved.

 

Despite their differences, Annabeth had missed all of her teammates.  However, the room felt a little empty without the players who had graduated before the summer.  Charles Beckendorf had practically held the team together at various points, and Silena Beauregard had been an excellent mentor, captain, and friend.

 

Still, if Annabeth couldn’t get over a couple of teammates graduating, she would never make it to Court.  She made a mental promise to keep in touch with Silena and Beckendorf, and joined in the conversation.

 

“Anyone know when Chiron and Mr D are coming?” she asked.

 

“Soon,” Rachel answered, holding up her phone.  “Chiron texted me.  They got held up.”

 

Annabeth glanced out the window to the parking lot.  Their team’s  manager was a slightly obnoxious man who never failed to make his intense hatred of Exy clear, and whose name was so unpronounceable that it was usually reduced to his initial.  Chiron, their coach, was practically the opposite; he could recite the score from any Exy game in history and took a personal interest to every player he worked with, whether he was coaching a school or Class I team.

 

A few minutes later, Mr D’s car rolled into one of the disabled spaces.  Annabeth turned to inform the others, before glancing back.  She blinked.  “Who’s with them?”

 

Percy jumped over the back of a sofa as if it would be too difficult to walk around it, and joined Annabeth at the window.  “What?”

 

“There’s someone in the backseat.”  Annabeth squinted below them.  The car doors opened, and Mr D walked to the trunk to fetch Chiron’s wheelchair.  The stranger slid out of the back, and began to help Chiron out of the car.

 

He was wearing a simple purple t-shirt and jeans, and had close-cropped blond hair.  With a start, Annabeth realised that she recognised him.

 

Blood running cold, Annabeth turned to face the other Foxes.  “Why the  _ fuck _ is there a Raven near the Foxhole Court?”

 

“There’s a  _ what _ ?”  Clarisse pushed to the window.  “How would you know that’s a Raven?  Maybe it’s a new coach.”

 

“We don’t need a new coach,” Annabeth growled.  She whirled around and studied the stranger’s face again to confirm what she already knew.  “That’s Jason Grace - that frontliner who almost broke Silena’s arm last year.”

 

Doubtfully, Rachel hovered by the sofa.  “So, maybe he transferred.  Big deal.”

 

“You don’t  _ transfer _ from the Ravens.”

 

The room broke into a shouting match that lasted all of two minutes before the doors opened.  Chiron entered first, pushing himself on his wheelchair, and trailed by Mr D and Jason.  The Foxes fell into an uncertain silence.

 

Well, Annabeth was the team captain, and it was her responsibility to welcome new players.  She stepped forward, and said, “I think you have the wrong team.”

 

Jason shot Chiron a despairing glance, and Annabeth bit back anger.  Calmly, Chiron shook his head.  “Jason is in the right place.”

 

“He’s a Raven!”

 

Mr D regarded Annabeth with a bored stare.  “He transferred.  He’s a Fox now.”

 

Balling her fists, Clarisse glowered at Jason.  “Isn’t the team captain meant to have a say in this sort of thing?” she snapped.

 

“Yeah, if Clarisse is siding with Annabeth it probably means something’s wrong,” Connor said helpfully.

 

With irritating composure, Chiron said, “Annabeth helped us pick our other two new players.  Jason’s transfer was a last minute arrangement, but it is approved by Mr D and I.”  He looked to Annabeth with a silent request for compromise.  “It’s not as if Jason’s a bad player.”

 

Ignoring his obvious discomfort, Annabeth met Jason’s eyes.  “I prefer to judge people on how they treat their teammates,” she said, sharply.

 

“What?” Jason protested.  “The Ravens were built on team spirit.  What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“Nice loyalty,” Clarisse said coolly.

 

Annabeth crossed her arms.  “The Ravens have a pairing system, right?  You train together.  Eat together.”  She tilted her head.  “Bear discipline together.  What’ll the punishment be for your friend back in Edgar Allan?”

 

Paling, Jason looked away.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he managed.  “You’re acting like we’re…  _ they’re _ violent.  Reyna will be fine.”

 

Reyna.  The girl with haunted eyes and impractically long hair, whom Annabeth had been playing against since high school.  “You  _ are _ violent,” she retorted.  “You think I didn’t do any research when I was offered a place in the Ravens?”

 

Jason winced and backpedaled.  “Reyna’s one of the best players they have.  They aren’t exactly going to hurt her for something I did.”  He didn’t sound very convincing.

 

Percy had stayed out of the argument until now, but he stepped forward.  “Wait.  You guys were best friends.  Did you just leave her?”

 

The Foxes started yelling at each other again, and even Chiron couldn’t quiet them.  Jason avoided everyone’s gaze, and Annabeth seethed silently by the window.

 

Eventually, the door opened again.

 

“Uh -”  Piper froze in the doorway as the shouting faded.  Leo stood behind her, looking slightly amused.  “Is this just a bad time, or will this be the general volume we have to deal with until graduation?”

 

Exhaling slowly, Annabeth said, “Hey, guys.  Welcome to the Foxes.”

  
The next year would be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!! reyna's introduction is already published, hit that next chapter button ;) i really appreciate comments! -katy


	2. Reyna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI IT'S ANNA!!! i was going to wait until tomorrow to post this but i got really excited so this is my first chapter which is reynas introduction... i really hope you guys like this!! i wrote it a few months ago before my writing style changed a bit but oh well

Step, breath, smack. Step, breath, smack. Step, breath - fuck.

 

Reyna dropped her racquet, cradling her throbbing wrist. She swiped a hand across her forehead, and it came away damp with sweat. Grimacing, she wiped it on her shorts, picked up her racquet, and began again.

 

Step, breath, smack. Her footsteps echoed on the empty court. 

 

She glanced over her shoulder at the rows of desolate stands. There was no-one there, she reassured herself. No-one there but the ghosts - and they were all in her mind, anyway.

 

Step, breath, smack.

 

The Exy court was Reyna's home, and the Ravens were just the other people that happened to live there. It wasn't that she didn't have friends on the team, because she did, in a way; but when that pretence of camaraderie was all stripped away, they were just stepping stones to Reyna's freedom. Up, up, up, out of Edgar Allen, make Court, play in the Olympics, and never speak to the other Ravens again. If only.

 

Being star striker for Edgar Allen’s Ravens had its pros and its cons - Reyna's lonely midnight drills falling into both of these categories. Exy was the only time Reyna could feel free of her past: when the crowds were screaming and her teammates were shouting and her muscles felt like frayed cotton, the phantoms she'd left behind couldn't touch her.

 

A sudden chilly breeze blew over the court. Reyna should have been cold, but she barely felt it, too focussed on her drill to notice her surroundings. One step forward, breath, hit the ball on its rebound, sending it straight towards the target on the wall. One step backwards, breath, and another hit.

 

The ball smashed the centre of the target every time.

 

Step, breath - jump - smack. Her hand was getting worse, a low ache, thumping like a heartbeat, that started between her thumb and index finger, and spread down to a hot pain in her wrist. She dropped the ball, rotating her arm in circles, trying to ease the soreness.

 

“You'll injure yourself if you keep doing that.”

 

Reyna jumped, whirling around. Octavian - technically Reyna's junior, but Coach's son, so he acted superior to everyone - leant against the wire mesh, arms folded, one eyebrow raised. He lazily beckoned a finger.

 

A dull stone of rage settled heavily in Reyna's stomach. She clenched her fists, like she was going to attack him, or at least refuse to do anything he said - but if she disobeyed Octavian, he would go running to Coach, and she'd be off the team before she could say ‘he started it’.

 

She settled for tightening her jaw and striding over to Octavian with more pride than he could ever have. “What do you want?” she spat.

 

Octavian whirled on her, planting both hands on her shoulders and slamming her into the fence. He caught her by surprise, and though she struggled, she couldn't get free. With one arm, he tried to pin her hands behind her back, but Reyna's arm muscles were much stronger than his, and she managed to throw him off. Hissing with pain, she clutched her sore hand to her chest, trying to shield it from Octavian's blows. 

 

He jammed his elbow into the hollow of her throat, pressing it in until bright lights floated in front of Reyna's eyes. She kicked out, her knee connecting with his groin with a satisfying smack. 

 

Loosening his grip, he swore loudly, and Reyna took the opportunity to wrench herself free. “Goddamnit, Octavian,” she gasped, rubbing her throat. “What do you want?”

 

“I want you to stop being stupid and start playing like a Raven,” Octavian hissed. “Or-” He drew a line across his throat.

 

“I am playing like a Raven. What, you want me to be as soft as a fucking Fox?” 

 

“If you injure your hand, the Foxes will beat you. They'll beat us. And,” he added, in an almost sing-song voice, “I don't think Coach would be very happy with that, would she?”

 

“Fuck you.” Reyna wanted to punch him or spit on his face and make him eat his own words so hard he'd be shitting spite for a week - but she counted to ten in her head and kept her composure.

 

Octavian just glared at her sullenly, then snatched his hand from her shoulder like he'd been burned. He turned, and stomped off across the court, disappearing into the stands.

 

“Dickhead,” Reyna muttered after him. She considered starting her drills again, but - much as she hated to admit it - Octavian was right. If she messed up her hand, her game would be off, which could cost her her place on the team.

 

She tossed the ball back into the bucket and headed over to the locker room.

 

\---

 

Standing underneath the shower, Reyna tilted her head forwards, letting the hot water pound down onto her neck and run over her scalp. She worked her hands through her hair, feeling the dust and grit and sweat wash away.

 

Bruises were already forming on her throat and shoulders, blooming green and purple over the lattice of scars from the harsh Raven training. She prodded them gingerly, testing the pain; they looked worse than they were, and, whilst they would probably stay there a while, Reyna doubted they would impact her game. A bit of makeup would hide them, and she'd be fine.

 

It had happened before - somebody had hit her, usually a teammate, occasionally Coach, but the press had never picked up on it. Probably because they were too scared to ask Reyna anything without being decked: the Raven's star striker had a reputation, and it wasn't for giving out candy.

 

She switched the water off and dried herself, dressing in the stall. The last few drops of water dribbled from the showerhead, and plopped downwards, making a constant high-pitched dripping sound. Reyna twisted the tap further, trying to turn off the drips, until the metal cut into her hand. She smothered a laugh, questioning how sane she really was.

 

Reyna wondered if Jason would be playing in the game against the Foxes. She allowed herself to think of him, just quickly.

 

Jason had been her partner, when he was still a Raven. He'd been Coach's favourite, set to make Court after he graduated. He and Reyna had been the media's dream team. They had each other's backs - Reyna's failure was Jason's failure, and her success was his too. Not that either of them ever failed. They'd been unbeatable. They'd been together.

 

Until they weren't anymore. Just weeks ago, a few days before his eighteenth birthday, he had disappeared. Reyna had woken up, rolled over to say good morning, and he wasn't there. His bed was made, the corners squared just how he liked them, and his shelves cleared. He'd vanished without a trace.

 

Gone.

 

Just like that. 

 

She'd been worried sick. Her game had definitely been off, and Coach must've had a sore throat from shouting at her so much.

 

Then, a few days ago, Jason's whereabouts had been revealed. He'd transferred - and to the Palmetto State Foxes, nonetheless. 

 

Coach had switched on the television in the communal room, and Reyna's stomach had bottomed out when she saw Jason's face, taking up the whole screen. It was so familiar - eyes the colour of melted ice, soft blond hair pummeled into shape by a hefty amount of hair products, a light scattering of freckles and a jagged white scar on his upper lip.

 

But he looked different, too. Softer, somehow, like the razor-sharp edge had disappeared, the edge that was visible in the set of a Raven's jaw, in the way their knuckles whitened when curled around a racquet, in the way their eyes flashed. Reyna knew the edge; she saw it every time she looked in a mirror. She had seen it on Jason, all those nights she stayed awake studying his sleeping profile - and now it was gone. He was gone.

 

He'd left them. 

 

Damn. This place was as depressing as the poet it was named after.

 

A pounding on the door jolted Reyna from her thoughts. “Ramírez-Arellano! Are you still in there?”

 

“I'm just coming, Coach,” Reyna said quickly, toeing on her shoes and throwing her jacket over her shoulders.

 

She wrenched open the door and stepped outside, hugging a bundle of her dirty gear to her chest. Coach Delgado leant against the wall opposite the locker room, her thick dark eyebrows knotted together. “I needed to talk to you, Reyna.”

 

“Coach?” Reyna lifted her eyes to Delgado's face. The Raven's coach had short, spiky brown hair, skin the same colour as Reyna's, and a permanently angry expression. Reyna wasn't afraid of her, but she knew Delgado held Reyna's future in an iron fist, and could crush it with the tiniest movement.

 

“Octavian told me you're wearing out your hand.” Delgado's lip curled, revealing crooked white teeth.

 

“Did he really,” Reyna said, with no inflection. Coach reached out and snatched Reyna's wrist, inspecting the muscles.

 

“Hmm,” she said critically. “You need to step your game up, Ramírez-Arellano. This isn't good enough. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes, Coach,” Reyna mumbled.

 

“I said, do you understand?” Coach's grip on Reyna's arm tightened, and Reyna winced.

 

“Yes, Coach.” Reyna lifted her chin and drew herself upright.

 

“Good.” Delgado released Reyna's arm. “Now get out of my sight.”

 

Reyna paused for a second, and then turned and hurried away down the corridor. She knew if she looked round, Delgado would be watching her, tanned arms crossed and gaze scornful. Shoving her gear into her locker, she made her way through the passages of the Nest - and she didn't look round.

 

\---

 

Reyna shouldered her door open, stumbled in, and kicked it closed again. She flopped down onto her bunk, covering her face with her hands. “Dammit, Jason,” she muttered, clutching handfuls of her hair, “why'd you have to leave us?”

 

She stared at the ceiling for a while, counting in her head. Once she reached one hundred, her time was up. No more wallowing in her pain and no more thinking about Jason Grace.

 

She set to reorganising her shelves. Her meagre collection of books - she didn't much like to read, anyway - arranged by colour and author; her clothes neatly folded or hung; the bags and boxes pushed further under her bed. 

 

When everything was neat, and she had nothing left to do, she lay down on top of the covers and closed her eyes, pulling the happy memories over her like a blanket, and squashing her ghosts back and out of her room.

 

She didn't sleep for a long time, and when she did, the monsters came. They arrived slowly, bit by bit, creeping through the darkness. Reyna knew they were there, but she tried to ignore them, burying herself further in a dream about Hylla, and the day they stole the pastry from the bakery and didn't even get caught, and the time Hylla taught Reyna Exy, when they were only kids.

 

Nonetheless, soon the dream changed. Reyna's father loomed over them, his face a warped scream, like it had melted like candle wax and been frozen on again. He had a hand raised - no, two - no, three - and he slammed all his fists, however many there were, into Hylla’s side. Again and again and again.

 

In the dream, Reyna held an Exy racquet, even though it had been a golden candle-holder in real life - of all the ridiculous things. She raised the racquet and brought it down, over and over again. It slammed into her father's head with a sickening clunk.

 

He turned, screaming, and Reyna's stomach lurched nauseatingly as she realised that the man wasn't her father, but Jason Grace. Dream-Jason fell at her feet, clutching the splintered hole in his skull.

 

She dropped the racquet and stumbled down into a kneeling position, wrapping her arms around Jason. But no sooner had she fumbled to cover the wound, Jason's face morphed into Coach Delgado's. “This isn't good enough!” she gurgled, blood dripping from her lips.

 

Reyna awoke in a crouching position on the floor, dripping with cold sweat. She coughed, trying to ease her breathing, and eventually flopped onto her back. 

 

Checking the time, she swore loudly. Nearly five A.M - if she didn't hurry, she'd miss the morning practice.

 

Crap. Sometimes she hated being a Raven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> coffee my cat and comments on my work are the only things that sustain me so PLEASE leave kudos and a comment and ill love you forever


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